


The Baby Blanket

by GrnEydDvl



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Romance, but it gets better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-31 14:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrnEydDvl/pseuds/GrnEydDvl
Summary: When an old care home finds Simon Snow's baby blanket, Simon wonders what it could tell him about his parents. And what that knowledge might mean for his crumbling relationship with Baz Grimm-Pitch. Set immediately after Wayward Son. SnowBaz
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	1. The Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote the first half of this story a few years ago, but couldn’t think of a good way to end it, so I let it go. Then Wayward Son came out, and I thought, “that’s it!” So now that I know where this story is going, enjoy!

SIMON

I think Penny made the Watford emergency up to stop me from breaking up with Baz. Penny _loves_ Baz. Not like I love Baz. (No one loves Baz like I love Baz). But Penny loves Baz like I love Penny. And if I break up with him, she’ll have to choose between us, and I know (I think…I hope) she’ll choose me, and that she’ll be right pissed about it. So I think she made up the Watford emergency because she knew that I went down to the beach to break up with him and she needed something to distract me.

I don’t really think she made it up. But it’s hard not to think that when we show up at Watford and nothing’s on fire, or covered in giant spiders, or oozing purple sludge (That happened our fourth year. The Humdrum sent dogerpillars. I still have the burns.) Instead the “great emergency” that Penny had us all riled up about was a **_Blow Me Away_** that had gone horribly wrong and ripped the library apart. We arrive at Watford to find Penny’s mum berating two third years and directing cleanup at the same time.

“_This_ is what you made us race all the way out here for?” Agatha groans. Penny just shrugs.

“Mum made it sound worse on the phone.” We help with the cleanup and Penny tries to get her mum’s attention. Something about Shepard and a curse. (We left him in town. Penny and Baz refused to let him into Watford.)

“Interesting,” she says. “I’ll see to him after I’ve sorted this mess out.” 

So now we’re back in our flat, fighting jetlag and trying to pretend that everything’s gone back to normal. But it hasn’t. I know it hasn’t. It can’t. I need to give this up. Penny, Baz, magic, everything. I’m a Normal. I need to start acting like one. And to do that, the first thing I need to do is break up with Baz.

Penny left to get her ring repaired, Agatha went home to visit her parents and get her wand, and Shepard is still at Watford with Penny’s mum, so I finally have Baz alone. I wish I was happier about that.

He’s sitting next to me on the couch, looking at his phone, and he’s so fucking perfect I almost lose my resolve. I love him. I love him so much. I want to take advantage of the empty flat and snog him stupid, but I don’t. Because I’ve waited too long already.

“Baz,” I say, and he glances up from his phone. My heart leaps as he looks at me with those unnaturally gorgeous grey eyes, so I close mine. I don’t think I can look at him while I do this. “When someone shows you who they are…” I don’t get to finish, because my phone chooses that moment to ring. I feel both frustrated and relieved that I get to delay breaking up with Baz, even for just a few more minutes.

I pick up my phone, and it’s a number I don’t recognize. It’s probably a telemarketer, but I wouldn’t care if it was the Humdrum himself calling right now. I’d still answer it.

"Hello," I say.

"Simon?" says a voice I don't recognize. "Is this Simon Snow?"

"It is," I reply, confused. Very few people have my mobile number. I've never been called by a stranger before.

"You are not an easy man to track down Simon Snow," says the stranger on the phone. "I must have called two dozen people before I managed to get your number."

"Who is this?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry Simon. Of course, how rude of me. This is Nathan Whitmore. I'm the director of the Manchester Home for Boys. I suppose you don't remember me." I gasp. I haven't heard that name in ages. Not since I was eleven years old. But it’s hard to forget the name of a man you almost lit on fire. (Literally. There were actual flames.)

"Director Whitmore, of course I remember you. How are you?"

"I'm fine Simon. Are you doing well?"

"I am. I'm at University now in London."

"Good for you!" he says, and I can hear in his voice that he means it. "I'd love to catch up with you and hear about your life, but that's not why I'm calling. Recently, we were cleaning out the basement, and we found something that belongs to you. Your baby blanket." I can feel the blood drain out of my face. I'm so shocked I can't speak. I reach out to Baz and grip his hand, squeezing it so tightly I must be hurting him. But Baz sees the state I'm in and doesn't say anything. Instead he gives me an encouraging nod and allows me to crush his fingers.

"I thought it burnt up in the fire," I say when I find my voice again. 

"I thought so too," Director Whitmore replies. "The firemen gave us a few boxes of items they managed to salvage, but the fire started in your room, so I suppose no one thought to look for it. It ended up buried and forgotten in the basement, but I have it now. Would you like it back?" I swallow. My baby blanket. The only thing I have that connects me to my parents. My only link. My only clue. 

"I would," I say. "I'll come out and get it tomorrow."

"Excellent! I look forward to seeing you again Simon."

"You too." I hang up and stare unseeingly at my phone. Baz gives my hand a squeeze and it startles me. I almost forgot he was there (even though I must have cut off all feeling to his fingers by now.) I loosen my death grip and turn towards him. His face is lined with worry. 

"What was that all about?" he asks. 

BAZ

I'm concerned. I'm really concerned. I haven't seen Simon look like this since the Mage died. His face his pale, his mouth is drawn, and he's gripping my hand like it’s his lifeline to sanity. He looks like he wants to cry but doesn't remember how. I try to give him a hopeful look.

"Who was that?" Simon looks up at me, and it's like he's just registering that I'm here. He swallows. 

"Director Whitmore," he says. "The director of the last home I was in before I started Watford."

SIMON

I always liked Director Whitmore. He was one of the few home directors who actually seemed like he cared. He knew all the boys' names, even though there were 50 of us and we were constantly coming and going. The Manchester Home for Boys was the sixth care home I lived in. I moved in when I was eight and left when the Mage came to get me. Before Watford, it was the longest I had lived in any one place. Every other home had gotten rid of me as quickly as they could. I was too anti-social and too quick to violence for most homes to handle. I was still anti-social and quick to violence at Manchester, but Director Whitmore refused to send me away. He blamed my problems on all the shuffling around, and thought the best solution was for me to stay in one place long enough to make a friend. (I didn't, but that wasn't his fault.)

Back then, there were only two things I valued. My red rubber ball (I had stolen it off some whiny brat when I was nine) (I'm pretty sure Baz stole it from me at the end of our first year, but I've never gotten him to admit it), and the blanket I was wrapped in when they found me on the doorstep. It wasn't much, but it was the only connection I had to my parents. I think it was handmade (it looked handmade), and if I tried hard enough, I swore I could feel my mother’s love inside. (Looking back, I wonder if I really could. Love can be woven into a cloth with magic if you know the right spells. But maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part. I'm fairly certain that my parents were Normals. Just another reason why I have to leave all of this behind.)

I look up at Baz, and feel unjustly relieved that I haven’t managed to break up with him yet. I feel so safe and grounded with him here that I feel some of the tension ease. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, but breaking up with Baz can wait. I need him right now, no matter how unfair that is to him. I take a deep breath. 

"When I was eleven, I was living in Manchester. At the Manchester Home for Boys. I didn't know anything about magic back then. Then one night, I went off and the whole home burnt to the ground. The Mage came to get me the next day. I lost my baby blanket in that fire. At least, I thought I did. But they found it." I feel my eyes fill with tears, and don't bother to fight them. "It's the blanket my parents left me in. It's the only thing I had of theirs." Baz's eyes open wide with surprise and understanding. 

"But they found it," he says. "You can get it back." I nod, but Baz can read the unspoken emotions on my face. 

"Do you want it back?" he asks. I nod again. 

"I do. I mean, I think I do. I haven't thought about it in years, but it's the only connection I have to my parents. It's just...well, what if...what if it tells me something? About my parents." I know about magic now. I know about honing spells. And revealing spells. And the power that treasured objects can hold. I could use the blanket to find out more about my parents, if I wanted too. 

"We don't have to cast any spells if you don't want us to Simon," Baz says, reading my mind. "You can just have the blanket, as a memento." I give Baz a wry smile. 

"It's ironic isn't it? There were years when I would have given anything to learn more about my parents, but now, I'm kind of afraid. What if they really were Normals? I mean, I think they were. I'm pretty sure they were. But..."

"Then they were Normals," Baz interrupts. "So what? It won't change anything. It won't change who you are."

Unfortunately, he’s right. It won’t change anything. And that’s the problem.


	2. The Manchester Home for Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I know my chapters tend to be a bit short, but in exchange I post almost every day. Enjoy!

BAZ

Simon and I tell Bunce and Wellbelove what happened. Bunce backs me up without hesitation. 

"Who cares if your parents were Normals?" she says. "I think it'd be pretty amazing actually. A mage has never been born to Normals."

"I'm not a mage," Simon replies. "I don't have magic. Remember?" Bunce rolls her eyes. 

"Well you're not a Normal, magic or no magic, so that makes you a mage. I'm not having this argument with you again. And you've always wanted to know who your parents were. I know you have." I know she's right. Simon's been curious about his parents for as long as I've known him. I understand why he might be getting cold feet, but I still think this is a golden opportunity. I'll keep my promise. I won't cast any spells on the blanket if he doesn't want me to, but I want him to have the option. And, if I’m being perfectly honest, a selfish part of me is glad that he has something to fret about that isn’t our relationship for once.

The next day the four of us board a train to Manchester. Bunce and I both insist on accompanying Simon. I think Wellbelove just doesn’t want to stay home. Simon doesn't argue. He's putting on a brave front, sticking his chin out, looking determined, but both Bunce and I see right through it. Simon doesn't say anything on the train ride. Bunce and I chat, keeping the conversation light. Simon just stares out the window. 

When we get to Manchester we take a cab to the Home. It's not much to look at. An old, three story brownstone with barred windows and a dilapidated jungle gym crawling with small children. The faded red paint on the front door and windowsills is peeling. A brass sign next to the door reads "M nchester ome for Bo s". It's not Little Orphan Annie, but it's close.

Simon pauses at the door and I can tell he's mentally preparing himself. I want to take his hand, but I don’t know if that would calm him down or not right now. He takes a deep breath before pressing the bell. 

"Who is it?" says a voice through the intercom. 

"Simon Snow," Simon says. "I'm here to see Director Whitmore."

"Ah yes, Simon Snow. The Director is expecting you. Wait just a moment." The door buzzes and we enter into a lobby that looks like it was ripped out of a 1950's mental hospital. Or a horror film. The walls and linoleum floor are puke yellow and sterile, and there's a scattering of cheap plastic chairs. A woman sits at a counter behind a plexiglass barrier. She raises her eyebrow at our merry band, but she checks us in and gives us guest passes. 

"The Director's office is this way," she says, and she leads us out of the lobby through another locked door and down a long hall painted the same horrendous shade of yellow. At least there's signs of life inside. The walls are plastered with children's artwork, some on paper and some directly on the walls. We walk past bedrooms lined with rusty metal bunkbeds and over-washed white cotton sheets, and through a recreation room full of ancient couches with the stuffing poking out and a staticky analog television set. Two younger boys wearing ratty sweatshirts three sizes too big for them are fighting over the remote control. An older boy is buried in a book. Someone's abandoned a game of checkers on the stained coffee table. 

I try hard not to scowl. Bunce isn't even trying and Wellbelove looks a little nauseous. I've never been in a care home before. I know Simon has little good to say about them (when he talks about them at all, he prefers to avoid the topic), but somehow, I pictured them more like a Watford dorm and less like an insane asylum. 

"Are they all like this?" Bunce asks. Simon grimaces. 

"This is actually one of the better ones," he says. "Director Whitmore really cares, and he always puts the kids first. They don't all do that." Bunce starts to mumble something about child abuse and corruption, but I glare at her and she has the good sense to shut up. We're not here to perform an inspection of British Boys' Homes. We're here for Simon, and showing disgust for the place he spent his childhood is hardly a display of support. 

The woman stops at a nondescript door and knocks. 

"Come in," says a voice on the other side. The woman pokes her head in. 

"I have Simon Snow here to see you." 

"By all means, let him in." The woman steps aside and the four of us enter. The office is cramped and cluttered. An oversized desk covered in papers fills most of the space. File cabinets line every square inch of wall and another old couch (less abused but still worn and threadbare) is shoved into a corner. A middle-aged man with a glowing smile and hideous green vest welcomes us in. 

"Simon!" he exclaims when he sees him. He eagerly maneuvers his way around the desk and a pile of books to shake Simon's hand. "My boy, look at you! You're all grown up."

"It's good to see you Director Whitmore," Simon says, and I can tell he means it. I relax a little. This man at least seems like a decent person. 

"You too. It's so difficult to keep track of you boys when you leave the Home. Especially you, what with all the shuffling around you did. I'm grateful for this opportunity. And who are these fine people?" he asks, indicating the rest of our party. 

"These are my friends, Penny and Agatha, and my boyfriend Baz," Simon introduces us. "They wanted to come with me today."

"Of course, of course," Director Whitmore says, shaking our hands. "It's wonderful to meet you all. I must say, it's good to see Simon surrounded by loved ones. Take care of him for me, will you?"

"We will," Bunce says, and I nod. Bunce also seems to have calmed down after meeting the Director and Wellbelove looks a little less green. I suppose it's not so bad that the building is crummy if it's run by a man like this. Then I remember what Simon said about not all directors caring so much, but I shelf that thought for another time. 

"So," Director Whitmore continues. "I assume you came for your blanket."

"I did," Simon says. 

"Just one moment. I've got it here somewhere. Have a seat while I dig it out." Simon, Bunce and I sit on the tattered couch and Wellbelove settles on the armrest. While the Director rummages through a file cabinet, I briefly take Simon's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. I try to let go (I’m not sure if he actually appreciates it or not), but he holds fast. It's the only sign that he's nervous. You wouldn't know it from looking at his face. I squeeze his hand again to let him know I'm not going anywhere. Now or ever. Although I’m not sure he gets the message.

"Ah, here it is." Director Whitmore pulls a bundle wrapped in newspaper from one of his drawers. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it. I was convinced it was lost in the fire, but I recognized it immediately. I'm honestly not sure how it survived." The Director hands Simon the bundle. Simon unwraps it with shaking hands.

It's not much to look at. A simple square, large enough to hold an infant but nothing more, made of cheap blue wool. It's obvious that Simon treasured it. It's pilled and dirty at the edges, the way children's toys get when they're never put down. But that's just what it looks like on the surface. I sit up straighter and try to keep my face passive. Once again, Bunce is failing miserably at hiding her true feelings. Her nostrils flare and her eyes widen, and she looks like she wants to snatch it away from Simon and cover it in spells. Even Wellbelove sits up straighter. Because the three of us can feel what Simon and the Director can't. 

That blanket is full of magic. 

SIMON

I know there's magic in the blanket even though I can't feel it. Penny and Baz were so obvious in their reactions I'm surprised Director Whitmore didn't notice. But I don't let myself get my hopes up. I can't, not until I confirm it with them. 

We chat with Director Whitmore for a while and I tell him about myself (at least, I try. It's hard to tell Normals about my life when they want to know details.) Baz helps when I start to trip up, but Penny is chewing on her tongue and gripping the couch, like she needs to be held back from pouncing on the blanket. 

Eventually we leave the home. We have some time to kill before our train back to London, so we find a park bench to sit on. 

"Simon!" Penny says at last. She looks like she's ready to explode. "That blanket..."

"Has magic in it," I say. "You couldn't have been more obvious."

"Yes! And you know what that means, don't you? It means your parents weren't Normals. They were mages. You're not a Normal Simon! Officially." Penny's beaming at me. I let that thought wash over me for a minute. My parents weren't Normals. I'm not a Normal, not really. Part of me is thrilled, to know that I actually am a mage (a mage with no magic, but still.) But part of me can't help but be depressed all over again. 

"Then why did they leave me at a Normal Home?" I ask. This really shouldn’t be my most pressing concern right now, but being in that care home reminded me how awful they were. "Magicians don't give up their children. Remember?"

"Well, let's see if we can find out," Penny says, reaching hungrily for the blanket. Baz swats her hand away. 

"No Bunce," he says firmly. "We promised Snow. No spells on the blanket unless he wants them." I feel a rush of gratitude towards Baz for respecting his promise to me, but the magic in the blanket changes things. I never could resist a mystery. 

"What sort of magic is in there?" I ask. "Is it love? I think I felt love when I was a kid." 

"There's love," Baz says. "And protective wards. Those must be how it survived the fire. But there's also a glamour. That's what's got Bunce slobbering all over it." A glamour. A magical disguise. Something that magicians use to hide the truth from Normals (or other magicians if they want to.)

"So what does the blanket really look like?" I ask.

"Let's find out," Penny says instantly. She places her ring hand on the blanket. 

"**_Show yourself_**." Nothing happens. Penny frowns and tries again. 

"**_Show yourself_**." Still nothing. 

"Maybe you should try **_It's what's on the inside that coun_ts**,"I suggest. "Or **_You can't judge a book by its cover_**." Penny grins. 

"Look who's pulling out the big spells. How could you ever think you were a Normal Simon?" She tries them both. Nothing. 

"Maybe there's a ward on it," she says. "Or maybe Simon was the only one who could reveal it."

"Or maybe," Baz says, "you're not powerful enough to do it alone." Penny raises an eyebrow at him. 

"Really Baz? I thought we were past that part of our relationship. I have just as much magic as you do, no matter what you think."

"I'm not insulting you Bunce. These are Snow's parents we're talking about. They must have been wicked strong. It's not unreasonable to think that they cast a spell you can't break alone." He takes his wand out and taps the blanket. "Let's do it together. Like **_Amazing Grace_**."

“You two cast a _hymn_?!” Agatha says, looking shocked. Penny and Baz ignore her. Penny grips Baz’s wrist with her ring hand.

"**_Show yourself_**_,_" they say in unison. The blanket begins to glow and shimmer. It looks like an electrical storm, or the air right before I went off. I've never seen a glamour this powerful, and judging by the looks on Penny and Baz's faces, they haven't either. 

Finally, the light dims and we're able to see the blanket again. It's still the same color blue, but now there are words knitted into it in bright green. 

_Simon Snow Rosewood_

_Born June 21st, 1997_

_Son of David Charles Rosewood and Lucy Winifred Salisbury_

_My Rosebud Boy_

I feel like I can't remember how to breathe. Baz's eyes are wide as dinner plates and all the color has drained out of Agatha's face. 

I don't recognize my parents’ names. I've never heard of them. It's a bit of a shock to learn that my last name isn't actually Snow, but I'll think about that later. Right now, all I can focus on are the three words at the end. 'My rosebud boy.'

"Simon," Baz says gently placing his hand on my shoulder. "That was your mother, that night. The second time you were Visited. It wasn't my mother coming back. She was gone already. It was yours. She came to see you." Baz's face is so soft and gentle, and there's a tenderness in his eyes that breaks my heart to see (because I don’t deserve it.) But I can’t think about that right now.

"She loved you,” he says. “She didn't give you up because she didn't want you. She left you because she died. But she loved you. She loved you so much she came back for you." I can feel my eyes well up with tears. Baz is just reinforcing my thoughts, but hearing him say those words out loud makes them feel real. Like a spell. 

"Baz..." I say, but I can't continue. I'm too choked up. Baz pulls me into a hug and I don’t pull away, allowing the weight of everything to wash over me. My mother loved me. She didn't abandon me. I feel like twenty years of pressure has been lifted off my shoulders, and my body actually feels lighter.

“Simon,” Agatha says, and I (reluctantly) pull away from Baz to look at her. She’s chewing on her lip, like she does when she’s nervous about something. “I think…I think I know who your parents were. I think your dad…was the Mage.”


	3. The Lady and the Ring

SIMON

None of us can speak.

“Are you sure about that Wellbelove?” Baz askes, a low growl in his throat. Agatha just nods.

“Positive.”

All three of them are looking at me like I'm about to shatter. And part of me wants to. Part of me feels like I just lost the Mage all over again. But I'm also slowly realizing the ramifications of everything. If the Mage was my father, then why did he never tell me? Why did he abandon me at a Normal children's home to be raised as an un-loved orphan? Why did he never once treat me like a son, like family, like someone he loved? He cared for me, but as an ally, a weapon, a soldier. Never as his own flesh and blood. He made me his heir to get me into Watford, but if he had raised me himself, as his son, he wouldn't have needed to.

"What the hell?" I shout. Baz actually laughs.

"Simon," Penny says carefully, still clearly worried. "Are you ok?" 

"I'm not ok, I'm angry!" I say. "What a shitty father!" Baz laughs again and kisses me on the cheek. I let him.

"Oh, thank magic," he says. "That's exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"Baz!" Penny exclaims. 

"What? It was. The Mage was a shitty father. The sooner Snow realizes that, the sooner he can get over it." Penny still looks angry, but Baz is right. I actually feel surprisingly relieved. My mother loved me and my father was the worst. And my parents definitely weren't Normals. All in all, I think things turned out better than I expected. 

BAZ

Thank magic Simon is taking this so well. He’s had more shocks in the last 24 hours than anyone has a right to have, but he doesn’t look depressed anymore. If anything, he has this fire in his eyes and he almost looks like his old self again. He even let me kiss him (on the cheek, but still, that’s a win in my book.)

Wellbelove is still chewing on her lip and ringing her hands.

“Agatha, are you ok?” Simon asks. I almost want to shut her up. I don’t want her to say anything to ruin Simon’s mood. But I don’t, because I don’t want to start a fight.

“Simon, there’s something else,” she says. “I know who your mother was. Well, I don’t know her, exactly. But Penny, your mum does. She was her best friend.”

“Lucy!” Bunce exclaims. “Lucy and Davy! Of course! Great snakes Agatha, how do you remember that?” Wellbelove just shrugs.

“But she’s dead Agatha,” Simon says, his shoulders deflating a little. (Damn you Wellbelove). 

“But her mother isn’t.” Simon looks floored.

“I have a grandmother?” Wellbelove nods.

“It’s Lady Salisbury. You know her Simon. From my parents’ parties.” Simon looks like he’s forgotten how to speak.

“Let’s go visit her Simon,” Bunce says. “Right now.” Simon just nods.

BAZ

Simon Snow won’t let go of my hand. He’s been holding it for so long, it’s starting to feel warm. Not that I’m complaining. But he seems so nervous and fragile that I want to do something more for him. Pull him into my arms, stroke his hair, whisper encouraging words into his ear. There was a time when I would have. Right now, it’s all I can do to run my thumb over his knuckles and hope he won’t pull away. He doesn’t (thank magic).

Wellbelove asked her parents for Lady Salisbury’s number and we’re heading over. We didn’t say why. Just that it was a social call since Wellbelove is visiting from California. I think no one wanted to spring a surprise grandson on her over the phone.

“You alright love?” I ask, braving my favorite pet name. Simon shrugs.

“I think so. I mean, I know Lady Salisbury. Sort of. Just from Christmas parties at Agatha’s house, but she’s very nice. I’ve just…never had a family before. I’m not sure what to do.”

“You have a family,” I say, but I say it so quietly I’m not sure he can hear me.

“They’re dead Baz. Except for Lady Salisbury I guess.” So he did hear me.

“No, I mean...” He has a family. He has me and Bunce. I want him to know that. I _need_ him to know that. I almost think I have the nerve to tell him now, but Wellbelove stops dead in front of me and I almost barrel right into her.

“Crowley Wellbelove, watch it!” She looks unfazed.

“We’re here,” she says.

SIMON

I don’t actually know Lady Salisbury all that well. She and Agatha’s mum are friends, so she comes to all their parties and they had her over for tea a few times while I was there. Agatha and I usually greeted her to be polite, then skipped off to the TV room to watch Dr. Who. I know she lost her husband young and has a son no one talks about. Apparently, she has a daughter that _no one_ talks about, because even I’ve heard of her son. (He lives in Denmark or France or something. Great snakes, I guess that means I have an uncle too now.) I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act, or what I’m supposed to say, so I just cling to Baz’s hand and try not to feel guilty about it (he’s still my boyfriend. For now at least. I should still be allowed to do this, right?)

We find the right house and Agatha knocks. I’m too nervous. A maid answers.

“Miss Wellbelove,” she says. “The Lady is expecting you.” She leads us into a sitting room that looks like something off Downton Abbey. All the furniture is gold trimmed and posh. There are tapestries on the walls and lace doilies on the end tables. Everything is covered in flowers. We sit on a silk pink sofa, looking horribly out of place (all of us except Baz. Somehow, he looks like he fits right in. Tosser. I love him so much.) The maid leaves and comes back with a silver tea set.

“The Lady will be down soon,” she says, handing us our tea and excusing herself.

“Who knew you came from money Simon?” Penny teases. I swallow a lump in my throat and Baz squeezes my hand. I jump. I forgot I was holding it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Lady Salisbury comes in, looking every inch a match for the living room. I could swear she’s wearing a dress made out of the same fabric as the curtains. “Agatha dear, so good to see you. Simon, it’s been a while hasn’t it? And you’re Natasha’s boy, aren’t you? Basilton, wasn’t it? So lovely that you thought to visit.”

“It’s very nice to see you Lady Salisbury,” Agatha says, sounding ridiculously well-bred. I let her introduce Penny. I’m scared that if I open my mouth, it will be obvious that I don’t belong here. 

Agatha and Lady Salisbury make polite small talk for a bit. Baz chimes in occasionally. I’m just starting to think that this is a really terrible idea and we should probably leave, when Penny decides she’s has enough of small talk.

“Lady Salisbury,” she says. “Simon has something to show you.” I squeeze Baz’s hand again (I can’t _believe_ I’m still holding it, Merlin, I’m weak), and pull out the blanket.

“I…well…this is my baby blanket and it…” I’m blustering. Baz hates that. I swallow and try again. “My mom made this for me. But I just found out what it says and…”

“Just give her the blanket Simon,” Penny says, clearly out of patience. I swallow again and pass Lady Salisbury the blanket. She looks confused, but as she reads the words on it all the color drains out of her face and I’m worried she might faint.

“Hells spells, Lucy,” she says. “My Lucy. My darling girl.” Her eyes well up with tears, and the look she gives the blanket may be the saddest I’ve ever seen. Then she looks at _me_.

“So my Lucy is your mother?” She looks so lost and hopeful that I almost lose whatever was left of my voice.

“I…think so.” She’s fully crying now, and I feel like a louse, but then she’s in front of me, hugging me in a way no one has ever hugged me before and I think I might cry. She pulls back and takes my face in her hands.

“I always thought, ever since you were a little boy, that you looked so familiar. Your eyes, they’re just like hers. And the shape of your cheeks, and those curls. I always told myself it was just a mother missing her daughter, but I think part of me always knew. My boy. My grandson.” And then she hugs me again. I’m not good at giving hugs, but I’ve gotten better recently (a side effect of always wanting to hold Baz), so I try. It’s awkward, but it’s also really nice. I can’t really think of her as my grandmother, not yet, but I can try, I guess.

Finally, she pulls away and wipes her eyes.

“I’m sorry for my outburst, but really, how often does a woman my age learn she’s a grandmother?”

“It’s ok,” Penny says, and I think she’s crying too. Agatha is looking at me like she hasn’t since fifth year, a soft look like she truly cares for me. Baz is beaming at me, but I think I see tears in his eyes too. I feel something wet on my face and realize that it’s not from Lady Salisbury’s tears. It’s from mine. I guess I am happy.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Lady Salisbury says and rushes out of the room with a shocking amount of dignity. The rest of us sit in stunned silence. Baz squeezes my shoulder and I lean against him. Not long, but long enough to feel his cool, reassuring presence beside me.

BAZ

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve cried in my life, and they all had something to do with my mother. I assume I’ll cry if Simon ever gets up the nerve to dump me, but I really don’t want to think about that. I never thought the first time I’d cry over Simon would be in a moment like this. But this is worth it.

Lady Salisbury isn’t gone long. I thought she had just left to freshen up, and she has (she clearly has fresh mascara and face powder on), but she also presses something into Simon’s hand. It’s a ring. Not gaudy like Bunce’s, but elegant and almost tasteful. It’s a thick gold band with a simple geometric pattern carved along the edge. And it’s full of magic.

“That was my husband’s magickal instrument,” Lady Salisbury tells Simon. “I’ve kept it all these years, but never had someone to pass it on to. I’d like you to have it.”

“But I don’t have any magic,” Simon says. “I can’t use it.” He tries to give it back, but she curls his fingers around it.

“Take it. Even if you can’t use it. Think of it as a gift from your grandparents.” Simon nods.

We stay for a while. Lady Salisbury wants to know everything about Simon, and he tells her what he can, helped along by the rest of us. She tells us all about Lucy. We end up staying for dinner and it’s dark by the time we leave, with promises to visit again as soon as we can.

Simon looks numb. I don’t blame him. He’s had a rollercoaster of a day, and he’s not good at processing his emotions at the best of times. We head back to the flat and drink tea (Simon has a cider and I don’t make a single snide comment about it), while we mull over the day’s events. Finally, Wellbelove yawns.

“I’m heading home,” she says. “I’m exhausted.” This is my cue to leave too. I really don’t want to, but it’s been months since I’ve spent the night. I stand.

“I’ll walk you out,” I say, but then Simon grabs my sleeve.

“Stay,” he whispers.

SIMON

Stay. Please. Just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone tonight.

BAZ

We climb into bed and I’m nervous. Everything’s changed, and I’m not sure what the rules are. Thankfully, Simon comes to me. He curls his fingers in my sleeve and buries his face in my shoulder. It’s not everything I want, but I’ll take whatever he’ll give me. 

“Thanks Baz,” he whispers into my shirt. “For being with me today.” I can feel his body heat, like a furnace in my side. He smells like cider and popcorn and the cheap shampoo Bunce buys for him. I can hear his heartbeat and his loud breathing. I love him so damn much it hurts. I gently brush my knuckles along his cheek and place a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this story isn't very exciting, but I promise it picks up in the next chapter.


	4. The Fire

SIMON

I wake up before Baz. He’s facing me, breathing softly, and his hair has fallen over his cheek. He’s beautiful. He’s always beautiful, but it’s different when he’s asleep. His guard is down, and he’s completely relaxed and worry free. I’ve missed this. Waking up next to Baz. I gently reach out to curl my finger in his silky smooth hair (a bloke should not have hair this smooth.) I try not to wake him. I want to enjoy him, like this, just a bit longer.

I run though yesterday in my head. I was so overwhelmed by everything that I haven’t had any time to process what it all means. The Mage was my father. I’m still pissed about that even though I really liked him. He never treated me like his son, even though he knew who I was, but I don’t really want to think about that right now. 

I had magickal parents. That’s something I wasn’t expecting. Which means I’m technically, actually not a Normal. Does that change anything? Part of me wants it to. Part of me wants to think that being officially part of a magickal family means that maybe it’s ok for me to stay in the World of Mages. To stay with Penny. And Baz…

Baz is still asleep. I can feel his breath on my face. He’s pale (he didn’t really have time to hunt yesterday. He’ll be thirsty this morning.)

I love him. I want to fall asleep every night listening to him breathe and wake up next to him every morning. But I’m still not sure how Baz feels, stuck with a loser like me. I was going to end it. To set him free. He deserves so much more than a pathetic Normal like me. I was ready.

But the blanket changes things. At least, I think it does (I hope it does.) I run my fingers over the ring Lady Salisbury gave me. I put it on when she insisted I take it, and I haven’t taken it off. It feels strange to wear a magickal instrument when I don’t have magic anymore, but somehow, it also feels like mine in a way my wand never did. Like I feel a connection to it. Penny says that a bond exists between a mage and their instrument, and that you were always better with the right one. She said families who had the luxury gave their kids several magickal instruments to try out before settling on the right one. I was shit with my wand, but maybe if I had had this ring instead, I might have been a better mage. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s a nice thought, so I let myself have it.

Baz stirs beside me and opens his eyes. For a moment his face breaks out in a warm smile, like he’s almost happy to see me first thing in the morning. (Is he? He used to be. Is it even possible he could be again?)

“Morning Snow,” he says. I want to reach out and take his hand. I want to wrap my arm around him. I want to kiss him good morning, then kiss him again for no reason at all. 

“It’s Rosewood now,” I say instead. Baz sneers.

“The hell it is. Your name is Simon Snow. I’m never calling you by the Mage’s name even if you light me on fire.” I laugh. This feels good. Almost like it used to, during the first few months Penny and I lived here, when Baz and I were just happy to be in each other’s presence. It was so easy back then. What I would give to go back to that. I shimmy a little closer to him.

“I could change it to Salisbury,” I say.

“I wouldn’t mind that so much. It’s a good name. A magickal name. Maybe we could even get you into the club with that name. But you’ll always be Snow to me.”

“Why do you still insist on calling me that?” We’re teasing each other, lightly, like we used to, and I’m expecting a jab back, so I’m shocked stupid when Baz’s smile drops and his eyes turn serious.

“Because I’m the only one who does.” I don’t know what to say to that.

“Baz…” 

“Simon.” Baz is looking at me like he’s trying to tell me something important. Like _I’m_ important. I kiss him. Because I love him. And because I can’t help it any longer. I feel like I’ll burst if I don’t.

I still need to break up with him. But not today. Maybe tomorrow.

BAZ

Simon’s in a much better mood today. I will never cease to be amazed at how quickly he can adjust to a situation. He even kissed me this morning (and I didn’t even have to kill a vampire or fight a wereskunk first.) The part of me that refuses to give up hope wonders if this is a real change. If spending the night and good morning kisses will become part of our routine again. Crowley, I hope so.

He’s still wearing the ring Lady Salisbury gave him, and I take that as a good sign. He’s so touchy about magic that the fact that he’s choosing to wear a magickal instrument is nothing short of a miracle. I’m not even sure where he put his wand (I haven’t seen it since Watford, and it’s not like he has many places to hide it.)

Simon drags Bunce and me to his favorite restaurant for lunch. One of those Japanese joints where they cook the food right in front of you. But not a classy one. This place is the definition of a greasy spoon. There’s grease on every single surface (including the ceiling.) Wellbelove refuses to join us. Says it takes a week to get the smell out of her hair (it does.)

“I really don’t like this place,” I say as we sit down at a table in the back and I try not to grimace. There’s a sheen of oil on my chair. And the table. And the silverware. “You people know I’m flammable right?”

“You’ll be fine Baz,” Simon says, bouncing in his seat and opening a menu (which is also covered in grease.) He looks so happy, like a little kid, and I can’t help but smile. It’s like a whole new Simon.

“What do you guys want?” he asks. “The chicken was really good last time…” At that moment, several things happen in rapid succession. A woman pushes her chair out from the table right into a waiter laden with plates full of vegetables and raw meat. The plates go flying everywhere. One lands right next to a chef just as he’s starting to flip a flaming steak. He jumps, so does the steak, and it hits the ceiling. Which instantly bursts into flames.

It’s pandemonium. Everyone starts screaming and running towards the exit as the fire quickly tears through the place. I’m rooted to the spot. There’s a wall of fire between me and the door, and there is zero chance of me making it there unimmolated.

Bunce holds out her ring hand.

“**_Make a wish_**!” The fire pulls back a bit, but everything in this place is coated in oil so it rapidly catches again. Then she turns to me.

“**_Raining cats and dogs_**.”

“Bunce, it’s a grease fire!” I shout, appalled that she doesn’t realize that. “You can’t pour water on a grease fire!”

“It’s not for the fire Basil, it’s for you.” As she says it, I’m suddenly doused with water, like someone poured a bucket over my head.

“Do you think it’ll help?” I ask, pushing sopping hair out of my face.

“Better than nothing.”

“We have to get out of here!” Simon says, looking desperately for a path to the door. He’s right. They do.

“Bunce,” I say. “Give Snow his wings back. Now.” Bunce is trying to push the fire back and she glares at me.

“What are wings going to do in this situation?”

“He’s going to fly the two of you out of here.”

“What about you Baz?” Simon asks. There’s fire all around us now. It’s casting eerie shadows on his skin. I can see it reflected in his eyes. He’s perfect. I love him. More than blood, more than magic, and certainly more than my own life.

Like hell am I going to let him die.

SIMON

Like hell am I going to let Baz die.

I hear a bell ring and my wings burst out of my back, blowing the fire back a bit with the force of it.

“Let’s go Simon,” Penny says, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Baz.

“I’m not leaving without you,” I say. I can’t. I can’t just leave Baz here to burn. I love him. I don’t know how to live without him. I don’t think I _can_ live without him.

“So you’re just going to let Bunce die with us?” he says. “Don’t worry Snow, I won’t go down without a fight.” But he’s bluffing and I can tell. He’s smirking at me like he’s plotting. He’s soaking wet from Penny’s spell and the water is shimmering in the light of the flames. I can’t just _leave _him.

He kisses me. It’s rushed and wet and hot and cold and it’s not enough. Then he turns to Penny.

“Get out of here. Both of you.” Penny nods.

“Let’s go Simon. We’ll fight the fire from the other side.” I look back at Baz and his eyes are soft. I can’t believe I’m leaving him here, surrounded by fire, but I don’t want Penny to die either.

“I’m coming back for you,” I say. Then I wrap my arms around Penny and take off. It’s not easy navigating through the burning restaurant. Everything’s in flames, and it seems like they’re getting higher every second. A chunk of ceiling tile almost falls on us, but I maneuver out of the way at the last second. There are smoldering ashes everywhere. I can feel them peppering my skin and clothes. I’ll never make it through here with Baz.

I land right in front of the door and put Penny down. She’s still casting spells (she never stopped). I look back through the inferno at Baz. He’s still alive, but the fire’s getting closer and I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified. He has his wand out and he’s casting spells, holding the fire at bay, but it won’t last forever.

“Let’s cast together!” Penny shouts at him. It’s so loud in here I’m not sure Baz can hear her, but his vampire ears pick up her voice and he looks at her and nods.

“Ready?” she says. “One, two, three, **_Make a wish_**.” The fire pulls back a little, more than before, but not enough to get Baz out safely. They try again. And again. I feel lost and helpless. I wish I could _do_ something. I squeeze my fists in frustration and feel the ring Lady Salisbury gave me. I don’t think this will do anything, but I can’t just stand here doing nothing. Penny’s starting to choke from all the smoke. Her voice is going hoarse and she’s coughing.

Penny and Baz try again, but this time, when they cast **_Make a wish_**, I do to. I don’t know if it can really be called casting, but I hold up my ring hand the way Penny does and shout the words. I try to feel them, their power and magic, the way I was taught but could never really manage. I feel something burble up inside me and then something incredible happens. The fire pulls back.

It’s not like it did in the woods that day, where it just disappeared in a pop, but it’s enough. There’s a clear path from Baz to the door, wide enough for him to fit though. Baz doesn’t hesitate. He runs to us faster than any human, grabs both our hands and pulls us out the door. We burst into the street, plumes of smoke billowing behind us. I hear Penny cast an invisibility spell on my wings as we race away from the restaurant and into the crowd just as the fire trucks (finally) arrive.

I don’t think, because I don’t have to. The second we’re across the street and safe I throw myself into Baz’s arms and kiss him like I never have before. It’s urgent and frenzied and hurried and there’s too much teeth and not enough tongue and it doesn’t matter because he’s here and alive and safe. He smells like smoke and he’s soaked through and I don’t care because I don’t ever want to let him go. I just want to kiss him until the end of time.

We’re interrupted too soon by an EMT who wants to make sure we’re ok.

“You three were in there a long time,” he says, looking us up and down. “Are you alright?” Baz is covered in black soot (a mixture of ash and water I guess), and Penny and my clothes are riddled with burn marks. I think my hair is singed on the side (I can smell it.)

“We’re fine,” Penny assures him. He looks incredulous.

“Well, we’d really prefer to examine you. There’re some oxygen tanks in the ambulance. Come and breathe some when you can.” Thankfully, he leaves us alone to go examine other people.

I look up at Baz (I’m still clinging to him. I don’t think I can ever let him go.) He still has his arms around me and he’s stroking my hair and I think I can tell him now. Tell him everything.

“Baz, I don’t want to break up with you.”


	5. The Family

BAZ

I’m still reeling from my near-death experience and from Simon’s raw kisses (not that I’m complaining about them), so I’m really not prepared for this confession.

“Aleister fucking Crowley, then don’t!” I say. Simon looks sad for a moment.

“But…I…I mean…you…”

“Words Snow.” Simon looks back up at me, and there’s fire in his eyes.

“I can’t keep burdening you like this. Burdening you with me. I know you…want to end this.” I can’t help it. I laugh. I’m too full of adrenaline not to.

“Nicks and slicks Snow, what in the name of magic gave you that idea?! Why the hell would I want to break up with the love of my life?” Simon’s mouth is open and gaping, and all the blood in me rushes to my cheeks when I realize what I’ve said. I’ve never told him that before. But I regret nothing. I’ve waited too long to tell him. It’s time.

“Simon,” I say gently. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we met and I will love you until the day I die, which I have recently learned may be a very long time. And I sure as hell don’t want to break up with you.”

“But Baz, I’m a mess.” I nod.

“You are. We’ve established that. And?”

“But I’ve been such a burden on you.”

"You’ve been depressed. With good reason. What kind of git would I be if I left you every time you hit a rough patch?”

“But…but I’m a Normal!”

“Simon, you have wings. And a tail. And a magickal education. You’re the Chosen One, the Greatest Mage. And, as we established yesterday, you have magic parents. And even if none of that were true, and you really were just a Normal, I’d still love you. Because you’re Simon Snow and everything about you is perfect. I love you Simon. _I love you_.” I hold him closer and hold his gaze, willing him to believe me.

SIMON

Baz is giving me this earnest look, like he’s baring his soul. And I want to believe him. I really do. _Can_ I believe him? Would it be ok to think that maybe, just maybe, he really does love me? That I could have this? Have him? But he deserves better. I know he does.

“Baz…”

“Oh for snake’s sake Simon, you’re not a Normal. You just cast a spell.”

PENNY

I can’t stand this anymore. This tension between them. Simon and Baz belong together, and it’s been killing me watching them fall apart. Baz is trying harder than I’ve ever seen him to hold on to what’s left of their relationship and Simon is still trying to push him away. I’ve had enough.

“What are you on about Bunce?” Baz asks, looking thoroughly put out that I interrupted them. And normally, I wouldn’t have (how many times does your boyfriend tell you he loves you for the first time?) (Once, I guess.) And I wouldn’t say anything if I didn’t think Simon was going to be an utter fool and end things with Baz anyway.

“That last **_Make a wish_**, the one that worked. It only worked because Simon cast it with us.” Baz’s eyes go wide. Simon’s looking sheepish. Then all three of us look down at his ring.

“What did you do Snow?” Baz asks. Simon shrugs.

“I didn’t…I mean, you were trapped and I was so scared I was going to lose you, so I just…well, I _thought_ about casting the spell, and then I _tried_ when you and Penny cast it, and then I just…” It’s not much of an explanation, but it’s enough.

“Snow, is your magic coming back?” Simon shrugs again.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He runs his finger over his ring. “Maybe I just needed it to.”

“Simon…” And then Baz kisses him and Simon lets him, and I turn away to give them a little privacy (I’ll complain about their PDA another time.)

SIMON

I don’t know if really cast that spell or not, but Penny seems convinced that I did, and Baz is so happy about it that I just let them think it. The EMT comes back over and nearly forces us into the ambulance. We breathe our oxygen and let them treat a burn on Penny’s arm. (Baz casts a healing spell on it as soon as the EMT looks away.)

Baz and I head back to our flat and Penny goes to buy sandwiches (we never did eat lunch.) As soon as the door to the flat is closed, Baz rounds on me.

“We’re not done with our conversation,” he says.

“Aren’t we?” We’re not, but I’m not sure how to say what I’m thinking. Baz is the eloquent one, not me.

“No, we’re not. Not until I’ve convinced you not to break up with me.”

“I don’t want to. But…”

“Then don’t!” Baz’s nostrils are flaring. His fingers are twitching like he wants to reach for me and has to hold himself back. I’ve never seen him more agitated. He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I don’t care if you don’t love me back. Just…don’t leave me Simon. Please.”

BAZ

Simon Snow has reduced me to begging. I don’t care.

Please. I’ll do anything. Don’t leave me. I love you. I love you. I love you.

“I love you.”

I’m not the one who said that.

SIMON

I love him. I need him to know that.

BAZ

I lick my lips because they’ve gone horribly dry.

“You love me?” I ask, not daring to hope that it’s true. Simon nods.

“I love you Baz. So much. More than anything.”

“Simon.” I take a step towards him. He steps back. I take another step. He doesn’t move. I try again. Now I’m right up against him, nearly chest to chest. I wait. And wait. Finally, he wraps his arms around me and rests his head on my shoulder.

“I don’t want to break up with you Baz,” he says for the second time today. I risk holding him.

“Then don’t,” I whisper in his ear. There’s a terrifying pause during which I’m afraid to breathe. Finally, Simon nods.

“Ok.” It’s one word. Two letters. Simon Snow just told me loved me less than a minute ago. But somehow, that one “ok” is the single best thing I’ve ever heard.

I chance a kiss. I’m slow about it, tracing my fingers along his jaw, tilting his chin up, moving in at a snail’s pace. I don’t want to spook him. He doesn’t pull away. Our lips meet. He’s warm and he still smells like smoke and burnt hair. I kiss him gently for as long as I can. I’m so afraid that he’ll change his mind and push me away again. But he doesn’t. I get bolder. Slowly, carefully, moving my lips more, running my hand along his spine. He lets me. I deepen the kiss and he allows that too. And then I stop worrying about it and just kiss him how I want to. We’re properly snogging now and it’s so good and I lose myself in him. Simon Snow. Will eternity be enough to show you how much you mean to me?

Simon pulls back before I’m ready, but I don’t want to push him. He rests his head in the crook of my neck and gives me a squeeze.

“Baz,” he says, so quietly only a vampire could hear. “You really need a shower.”

“I’m not going to argue with that one.” I’m covered head to toe in soot and I reek of smoke and cooking oil. It’s burning my sinuses.

“Can I…join you?”

I take it back. That is the single best thing I’ve ever heard.

BAZ

Bunce comes back to find us showered and blissful, curled up together on the couch. I’m slowly stroking Simon’s arm, and he’s breathing heavily into my neck and I can’t remember the last time I felt so happy and relieved.

“So you two figured it out then?” Bunce says, smirking at us. I don’t bother moving (an earthquake couldn’t move me right now.) Unfortunately, Bunce is holding a stack of sandwiches, and I know where I stand with Simon on a scale of one to sandwich. He pulls away and reaches out for it. Bunce hands him one and he leans back against me to eat it (I’ll take that as a win.)

“Have you tried casting another spell Simon?” Bunce asks.

“We haven’t had time for that,” I say, pleased when Simon’s cheeks flush.

“Baz!” he says through a mouth full of roast beef and lettuce. I grin. This is excellent.

“Well try,” Bunce insists. “Don’t you want to know?” Simon manages to swallow his food.

“I don’t know how,” he says.

“It’s not like you’ve never cast a spell before,” I say, trying to be encouraging. “Just try something simple.” Simon glares at me. He was never good at simple spells. He was never good at _any_ spells, but I don’t want to say that right now.

“Like what?”

“**_Somewhere over the rainbow_**,” Bunce and I say in unison.

SIMON

It’s a child’s spell. The very first spell kids are taught. Magickal children are given their magickal instrument on their third birthday and this the first spell they cast. It’s a whole family affair. Penny dragged me to Pip’s even though it was the weekend before final exams. Said her mum would roast her alive if she missed it.

I don’t think they’re insulting me. There are loads of spells I could try. But I think they want this to have meaning. I’m afraid to let them down, but Baz has both arms around me in a reassuring way and Penny’s glowing. So I can try this. For them. For my family.

I hold out my ring hand feeling a bit naff, but also a bit like Penny. I try to remember what it felt like, back in the restaurant. How I want this. How these words have meaning, and I just need to pull it out. I reach deep inside me, trying to feel for my magic that used to just be there, all the time, whether I wanted it or not. I feel…something. Deep in my gut. Like a warm glow. I focus on it. I imagine channeling it to my ring. I can taste smoke in my mouth. This is where I used to try to pull back. Instead I let it go.

“**_Somewhere over the rainbow_**.” A rainbow shoots out of hand, arches across the room, and settles in at Penny’s feet. It hovers for a few seconds, then bursts in a shower of sparks.

No one moves. No one speaks. Then suddenly, everything happens at once. Baz is kissing me all over and squeezing me a bit too hard and Penny is bouncing up and down and then she’s hugging me too and squealing “You did it Simon!” I’m too gobsmacked to do anything other than let them and stare at my hand like I’ve never seen it before.

“I did it,” I say, still not sure if I believe it. “I can use magic again.” I look over at Baz and he has tears in his eyes.

“You can love,” he says. “I’m so happy for you.” I don’t hesitate at all when I kiss him this time.

BAZ

Simon has been casting spells all day. Little spells, nothing too challenging. It’s like he’s learning how to do it for the first time. And in a way, he is. He never really learned how to control his magic before.

Bunce asked him what it felt like, this new magic.

“Dunno,” he said. “It feels like smoke, just like before, but it’s thinner. It’s not everywhere at once.” Bunce nodded.

“That’s what it’s supposed to feel like,” she said. “At least, for the rest of us. Now try **_Clean as a whistle_**.”

I think he’s tapped himself out. He’s pressed up against me on the couch, fiddling with his ring and Bunce is trying to feed him more spells.

“Give him a rest,” I say, running my hand through his curls. (Crowley I missed this. This whole day is surreal. I never want it to end.) “He’ll wear himself out at this rate.”

Simon is glowing. And not from magic for once. He looks soft and happy and I want to preserve this moment in my memory forever.

Bunce’s phone rings and she goes to answer it. I take advantage of her distraction to kiss my way down Simon’s cheek and neck.

"So I guess I’m not a Normal, huh?” Simon says. I chuckle into his skin.

“Nothing about you is normal Simon Snow. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Simon wraps his arms around me and pulls me close and everything feels right with world. Everything is just bloody perfect.

So of course when Bunce comes back into the room she’s looking stone faced.

“Basil,” she says. “That was Shepard. My mum found the video from the Renaissance Fair.”

Oops. Forgot about that. Well shit.

“Don’t worry,” Simon says. “If they snap your wand and take your ring, I’ll teach you how to live like Normals.” I can’t help it. I laugh. Hard. I can’t stop. Neither can Bunce. The three of us are howling with laughter and it takes a good few minutes to settle down.

“We’re in this together,” Simon says, reaching out his hands to us. We take them. “Our family.”

“The three of us,” Bunce agrees, taking my hand too. I squeeze them both.

“No matter what,” I say. “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!!
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I’m not sure this was my best fic, but I had a blast writing it. Thanks for reading :)


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